


One Way Or Another

by veryconfidentsandwichshapedfreedom



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Blood, Cannibalism, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Minor Violence, POV Peter Hayes, Peter might be more evil here than in canon, Songfic, actual cannibal Peter Hayes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veryconfidentsandwichshapedfreedom/pseuds/veryconfidentsandwichshapedfreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One way or another I'm gonna find you</p><p>I'm gonna get you</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Way Or Another

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this is a songfic and shit so yeah. 
> 
> one way or another belongs to blondie and whatever her record label is since im too lazy to google it. this was inspired by the until the ribbon breaks cover.
> 
> also u get one warning. while there isnt much violence what there is is pretty fucking disturbing so if ur at all freaked out by cannibalism and blood i recommend u to leave right now.
> 
> enjoy

_One way or another I'm gonna find you_

Peter had felt nothing but concentrated anger when Edward had placed first, and that feeling only grew stronger with each minute that passed. Edward did not deserve to beat him in that fight, and he certainly did not deserve to place first; the fact stood self-evident, based in some strange logic of his warped mind. But Peter was not a man to sit around and mope about lost opportunities. Where there was a will, there was a way, people would say, and he saw his way. 

_I'm gonna get you_

He needed to do something drastic. Blood would flow, and a life would be ruined.

This was where Drew came in.

Drew appeared to be simple, even slow, on the outside, but, inside, Peter knew, he was an intelligent tornado of thoughts, emotions, and mental illness. He was likely Peter's last chance, someone who was easily manipulated the way Drew was, someone with the irrational devotion Drew held.

_One way or another I'm gonna win you_

It had taken merely one sentence to convince Drew to help. He replied with some ramble about loving Peter like a brother, and how he'd do anything to keep that bond. Peter hadn't been listening. He was too absorbed in imagining Edward's agonized screams between intricately planning every detail of his attack.

_I'm gonna get you, get you_

While many weapons were available to be snuck out of various training areas, Peter found that neither gun, nor throwing knife, nor brass knuckles fit into his vision. He wanted something innocuous that no one would suspect could hurt anyone, something that would show the other initiates that he wasn't fucking kidding around with the rankings. Something that would prove himself to Eric.

_One way or another I'm gonna see you_

A butter knife. It was the perfect solution. Easily available, taken straight from the dinner table. The other initiates would be seeing them for the rest of their lives, and every time they used one, they would remember Edward bleeding and screaming with one shoved deep into his eye. He'd get what he wanted and strike terror into the hearts of everyone who witnessed the incident. Perfect.

_Gonna meet you_

When Peter delivered his course of action, he expected a negative reaction from Drew, one of doubt and of fear, though not one of non-compliance. Yet Drew managed to defy the prediction with a stunning amount of difference. His pale eyes became more and more lit with admiration as each word slipped past Peter's lips, eventually culminating into a gaze of pure desire, a nod, and a smile.

He realized then that Drew had lied to him. Drew did not want a brother figure, he wanted something greater than that, and reading his body language proved it. But that didn't matter to Peter. Drew was not a person to him, only a tool to be used to increase his own excellence. If something went wrong, then he'd have someone to blame it on and get away without consequence.

_One day, maybe next week_

They decided that the very same night would be the one where they would execute the product of their scheming. Drew was the one to steal the knife, but he would not be the one stabbing Edward; Peter would not entrust him with that for a variety of reasons. Drew was too clumsy to be trusted. Peter had long since learned that if you needed a job done right, you did it yourself. And this was Peter's quarrel. Drew was a pawn in the game of chess, but Peter was the player. He was the possessor of any and all control.

_Gonna meet you, I'm gonna meet you_

Even though he shook that entire evening, it was not from fear or nervousness. Anticipation filled his veins, anticipation for the moment when Edward would concede to a butter knife. Something told Peter exactly what would happen. Edward would either bleed out or be driven out. Either option pleased him.

Drew had passed the knife over to Peter as they watched Edward lay down in his bed. Then, they went to bed themselves.

_And I will drive by your house_

Within the next hour, all the initiates had been accounted for. Each bed was filled with another innocent lump of flesh, each focused on their own worries, and their own pointless lives. Peter almost felt a bit of jealousy. They had no idea what was about to happen. 

Peter almost feared that he'd fall asleep and miss his only shot, but even when he shut his eyes, he wasn't remotely tired. He was too excited. Several more minutes came and went. He equated each one's passage to a cat stepping during a hunt. He was the cat, zeroed in and stalking a sparrow. And the sparrow had light blue eyes and golden feathers.

_And if the lights are all down_

Peter rose from his bed sometime in the early hours of the night. He first thought that he was the only one left awake, but soon he heard Drew mousing through his bedsheets. Once he had made the decision to get up, the first thing he did was step forward soundlessly, fervent glow in his stare, and kiss Peter on the chin, the only spot his lips reached without standing fully upright.

Peter reached into his pocket and gripped the knife. It almost seemed to be moulded to his hand, as if it were made exclusively for him. Though he knew Drew couldn't see it, Peter smiled before whispering that he was ready, and stepped lightly forward.

Several beds down, Edward was deeply asleep. He huddled against his pillow, looking almost cute as he clutched it to his chest. Peter paused and ran the tip of the butter knife gently down his cheek, metal clean and shiny against skin. This was it.

Taking one last breath, Peter clamped a hand onto Edward's lips, pushing them shut with his palm. He felt his peer tense beneath him, eyes filled with fear as his gaze met Peter's. And before Edward could fight back, Peter forced his arm into a dramatic slamming motion, driving the knife deep into a dilated pupil.

_I'll see who's around_

Blood leapt upward, squirting into the air to cover Peter's face, hand, and arms. He stared down at his handiwork, and felt his hand muffle a scream as Edward realized what had just happened to him. The eye Peter had stabbed now had the butter knife sticking straight out of it. Bright red chunks of tissue, ranging in size from only specks to almost a full centimeter, formed a tight circle around the wound.

He sliced one off with his fingernail, and turned to leave. Drew's footsteps echoed loudly behind him, while Edward's now uncensored screams gradually drew quiet. As soon as Peter thought he was safe, he came to a stop and lifted the piece of the eye into his mouth.

It tasted like glory.


End file.
